


Go Mad This Summer

by the_ragnarok



Series: Wear White [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen, Guilt, Post Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison has a duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Mad This Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/gifts).



Allison finds Lydia just before class starts. “Scott told me he's not in town next week.” She glances around before adding, “and neither is Derek.”

It's something of an understatement – Scott literally dropped on her while she was jogging. She maced him before realizing who he was. Turns out adding wolfsbane to her mace really was effective, and she had a moment of satisfaction with herself for the idea before realizing where thoughts like that led and being thoroughly ashamed of herself.

Lydia's eyes narrow, and Allison can practically see her running the calendar in her mind. The full moon is on Tuesday. “Leaving all their puppies untended? You should tell your father.”

Allison flinches, can't help it. “He'll... you know.” She glances around the humming hallways. Nobody's paying attention to them, or at least, nobody she can notice.

“Shoot them? Kill them?” Lydia's tone is sharp. She has zero lost love for werewolves now that Jackson's gone, not that Allison can blame her. “Why so shy talking about it, Allison? You actually tried to do it. Own up to your actions.” She smirks, twirling a curl around her little finger.

Allison squares her shoulders. “I'm not denying what I did,” she says. “I'm also not going to do it again.”

They stare at one another for a moment. At last Lydia takes pity on her. "If you don't want to tell your dad, just stay indoors. That's what Scott asked you to do, isn't it?”

"And just, what, let the betas go around murdering people?” Allison remembers to lower her voice at the last second, throwing a guilty look over her shoulder. Around her the student body mills, oblivious.

Lydia shrugs one dainty shoulder. “Death's all the rage these days.” She takes in Allison's expression and sighs. “I guess I could think of something.” 

~~

Something tightens in Allison's chest whenever she walks near the lacrosse field. She hides her face behind a scarf, grateful for the unseasonable chill.

Scott's there, and Boyd, and Stiles with bruises still healing on his face. Isaac, too, laughing at the edge of the group. Erica's seated on the bench. Allison can't see her face, only her hair where it floats free in the wind. Freaky, beautiful werewolf hair. Never gets tangled no matter how you abuse it.

Lydia wouldn't understand; she's hurt plenty of people, but always with deliberation. Lydia doesn't do remorse, and there isn't really anyone else Allison can talk to.

~~

On the night before the full moon, she gets a text from Lydia. _Girls' night out tomorrow! Pick me up after school, wear white. :)_ Lydia herself is nowhere to be found. Her gmail status says _can't talk, studying_. It's the same message she uses to cover up anything from shopping trips to supernatural disasters.

Allison practices with her bow and her throwing knives, but she leaves them at home the next day. She'll use them if they're handy, that's instinct to her, and she doesn't think that's a choice she wants to have anymore.

In one last moment of indecision, she exchanges her practical black hoodie for a white, lacy top that her mother loved.

When Lydia gets in the car, her backpack clinks. “What have you got in there?” Allison says, wary.

"Hmm, let's see.” Lydia counts on her fingers. “There's vodka, peach schnapps, Drambuie, Jägermeister... and a little bit of Kahlua, just for the taste.”

“We're going to keep control of the betas by getting them drunk?” Allison frowns.

Lydia rolls her eyes. “Nooo, that's for _us_. Then _we_ are going to keep the betas occupied.” She smooths down her white silk skirt.

Allison's hands tighten on the steering wheel. She glances at Lydia, who is retouching her makeup with all evidence of nonchalance except for a faint twitch in the corner of her eye.

"Where to?” Allison asks, and starts the car.

~~

Nobody lives in the train depot anymore. Allison knew that already, but the place _feels_ abandoned. 

At least nobody will bother them here. Lydia throws a gingham tablecloth over the floor and sets down five sets of plastic plates. Allison stands at the doorway, clutching her shoulders and wishing she'd worn something warmer. “Did you bring food, too?” she says when Lydia sits down.

"No need,” Lydia says. “And here come our guests.”

Isaac, Erica and Boyd walk in, scanning the room before coming to a stop in an arrow formation with Boyd at the tip. “You called us here,” he says.

"So we did!” Lydia tosses her hair. “Sit down.” She pours a generous amount of Kahlua into a plastic cup and offers it to Boyd. “Relax.”

Boyd is very still, except for his top lip receding to reveal lengthening canines. Allison hurriedly puts herself between him and Lydia. “She never did anything to you,” Allison says, quiet and forceful. “Leave her alone.”

Lydia just steps around Allison and puts her hand on Boyd's arm. Boyd snarls, his eyes glowing an inhuman gold, and Allison has to stop this but she doesn't have her bow, doesn't have anything.

Except Boyd takes one step forward and stops. He sniffs the air, looking almost surprised, then gently lowers his face until he's right in Lydia's space.

Lydia's hand closes on his shoulder. She gives Isaac and Erica a pointed look. “The three of you will now sit your asses down, and we'll talk about this like rational people.”


End file.
